Well, good morning, church. Would you turn with me to the Gospel of Mark, chapter 8.
We're looking at verses 27 through 33. That's page 792 in the Pew Bible.
Mark chapter 8, 27 through 33.
As we turn there, let me pray, and then I'll read for us.
Father in heaven, what a mighty prayer that is, that you would be our vision.
Lord, whatever may befall, be our vision.
Lord, we confess that there are many things that crowd into our line of sight, the sight of our hearts.
God, we pray that you would clear those things away now in these moments as we come to your word.
Let our spiritual blindness be healed and help us to see you in all your glory.
That we might love you and serve you and worship you and rest in you as we were created to do.
We pray this in Jesus' name. Amen.
All right. Mark chapter 8, verse 27 through 33.
And Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi.
And on the way, he asked his disciples,
Who do people say that I am?
And they told him, John the Baptist.
And others say, Elijah.
And others, one of the prophets.
And he asked them,
But who do you say that I am?
Peter answered him,
You are the Christ.
And he strictly charged them to tell no one about him.
And he began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things
and be rejected by the elders and the chief priests and the scribes
and be killed.
And after three days, rise again.
And he said this plainly.
And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.
But turning and seeing his disciples,
he rebuked Peter and said,
Get behind me, Satan.
For you are not setting your mind on the things of God,
but on the things of man.
So, the Gospel of Mark.
The Gospel of Mark is a very carefully and artfully constructed book.
You might not notice that the first time you read it
because it's so quick and it's so punchy.
But it's actually sort of wrought with a lot of care and a lot of detail.
The Gospel begins by saying,
This is the good news.
The Gospel about Jesus, the Christ, the Son of God.
And then Mark's story takes us on this kind of two-part journey.
There are two halves to the Gospel of Mark.
In the first eight chapters,
Mark is essentially trying to help us answer the question,
Who is he?
Who is this Jesus?
And then in the second half of the book,
the last eight chapters,
Mark is trying to help us come to see and answer the question,
What did he come to do?
And these two halves actually connect right here in our passage.
Who is he?
What did he come to do?
This passage is really the hinge of the whole book.
We've come to kind of the burning center of the whole thing.
But you know, this passage doesn't just tell us what Mark,
or the earliest apostles,
or even what Jesus himself thought about his own identity.
It also turns the spotlight on us,
the readers, the listeners.
What about you?
What do you believe about Jesus?
Who do you say that I am?
There's no more important question than this.
What do you believe about Jesus?
Who do you say he is?
I want to look at our passage in four parts this morning,
as we consider this searching and most important of questions.
And in the first part,
we see that there are lots of opinions about Jesus.
Lots of opinions then,
and lots of opinions now.
Look again at verses 27 and 28.
Mark writes,
And Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi.
Now that's about a 15 mile travel north of the Sea of Galilee,
Caesarea Philippi.
It was chiefly a non-Jewish region,
and it was actually famous for having a pagan worship site
dedicated to the god Pan.
Sort of this half goat, half man sort of god
that was about fertility and crops
and all sorts of things that you would worship
if you were a pagan in the first century.
So this is Caesarea Philippi.
Sort of a strange place for Jesus to take his disciples,
to ask them this searching question.
But they're getting away.
They're getting away from the crowds.
They're getting away from the hubbub.
They're getting away from the activity.
And on the way,
he asked his disciples,
Who do people say that I am?
And they told him John the Baptist,
and others say Elijah,
and others one of the prophets.
So we see that there are a lot of opinions circulating
about who Jesus is.
And you notice that most of these opinions
are pretty pious opinions.
They're even respectful opinions.
All of them sort of seek to make Jesus out
to be a great, even powerful figure.
Right?
John the Baptist was a respected and revered preacher.
Perhaps Jesus is continuing the work of John the Baptist.
Or how about Elijah?
Elijah was a great Old Testament prophet.
And the Old Testament actually ends by saying
that a figure like Elijah would appear
before the great and awesome day of the Lord.
Perhaps Jesus is that great figure.
Or how about one of the prophets,
or even the prophet?
Moses predicted in Deuteronomy chapter 18
that a prophet like him would arise.
Perhaps Jesus is that prophet
that Moses had spoken about.
Again, all these are pious, respectful opinions.
And today, it's kind of the same, isn't it?
There are a lot of respectful, pious opinions
about who Jesus is.
A great moral teacher.
A prophet.
A perfect model of love and compassion.
A martyr who stood up against the injustice of his day.
But as we assess these opinions,
do they match what the earliest records
actually tell us about Jesus?
Jesus is a great moral teacher.
But he was much more than that.
And what about those things he says
that don't seem very likely
on the lips of a great moral teacher?
Things like,
I am the way, the truth, and the life,
and no one comes to the Father except through me.
Can you imagine sitting in an ethics class
and hearing your teacher say that?
Imagine turning on PBS
and seeing one of these self-help gurus
saying something like that.
You wouldn't think they're a great moral teacher,
would you?
Jesus was a perfect model of love and compassion.
We've seen that again and again in Mark's gospel,
haven't we?
As he touches lepers,
as he eats with outcasts,
as he welcomes the lowly and the sinners.
But he was much more than that.
There are times when the disciples
are downright afraid
at his power and majesty
when he calms storms
and walks on the sea
and casts out evil spirits.
And yes, Jesus did stand up
to the injustice of his day.
And yet,
was he simply a martyr
dying for a good cause?
Our passage will have more to say about that
in just a minute.
But so many of the opinions
or the options that circulate today
don't really do full justice
to the real Jesus.
They only see part of the picture,
not the whole.
So are you and I willing
to subject our opinion of Jesus
or what you might hear circulating about him
among your peers
or what you see on popular TV
or even read in scholarly books?
Are you willing to subject
your opinion of Jesus
to the full data that we have?
And when you do,
you'll start to find
that those opinions
are a bit like a blanket
or a sweater
that's just a little too small.
No matter how hard you stretch it
or pull it,
it never seems to cover everything.
There's always something that's left out.
There's always something
that's unaccounted for.
And you know,
just because an opinion is popular
doesn't mean it's true.
The popular opinion
during Jesus' own ministry
seems to be
that he was a prophet of some sort.
But that wasn't quite right.
It was close,
but it wasn't the full picture.
That sweater didn't quite fit.
In the second century,
one of the more popular opinions
about Jesus
came to be known as docetism.
This was the idea
that Jesus only seemed to be human.
He only seemed to have a body.
Because after all,
if Jesus was a powerful divine figure,
he couldn't possibly have
an icky body like you and me.
So that was an incredibly popular opinion.
And today we look at that
and we think,
that's utterly ridiculous.
But again,
that sweater didn't quite fit either.
And down through the ages,
popular opinions abounded.
Perhaps Jesus was just
a really great human
endowed with the spirit of God
in a unique way.
Or perhaps Jesus was just
a mistaken apocalyptic prophet.
Or perhaps Jesus was just
a religious zealot
out to overturn Rome.
And what you find
is that these old ideas
get recycled again and again
and marketed as new ideas.
And again and again
as the ideas go in
and out of fashion.
Whether it's a cashmere turtleneck
or a fisherman's white wool cable knit,
the sweater doesn't fit.
But the opinions just don't match the reality.
And that brings us to the second point.
There are lots of opinions,
but only one real answer.
Verses 29 and 30.
And Jesus asked them,
but who do you say that I am?
Peter answered him,
you are the Christ.
And he strictly charged them
to tell no one about him.
And here,
with Peter's confession of faith,
we see for the first time
in Mark's gospel,
the answer that's been building.
The answer that's been slowly rising
like a wave that begins far from shore.
And you can see it
just slowly gathering energy
and power.
And then it rises above the surface
in power and in beauty,
reflecting the sky and the sun.
There it comes,
raising up.
What other answer could there be?
And yet notice under what conditions
Peter makes this confession.
Jesus had done a number of great signs, yes,
but at the same time,
Jesus had no wealth.
No majesty,
no great following,
no military power.
In so many ways,
Jesus didn't look anything like the Messiah
that they had been waiting for.
The heads of state didn't recognize him.
The religious leaders had all but rejected him.
And yet still Peter says,
you're the Christ.
You're the king.
You're the one we've been waiting for.
The Holy Spirit enabled Peter to see what merely human eyes could not see.
As we saw last week,
our natural condition because of the fall is one of spiritual blindness.
But God can heal our spiritual blindness
and give us eyes to see.
Eyes to see what Peter saw.
Hearts and mouths that confess what Peter confessed.
How about you,
friend?
Has your sight begun to get clearer?
Is Jesus no longer to you just a literary character in a story?
Is he no longer just some historical figure?
Is he no longer just one more religious teacher or leader?
Has the wave begun to rise for you too?
Do you see it in all its power and beauty?
The loaves that feed the multitude.
The lepers that walk away clean.
The outcasts and the sinners who are embraced.
The evil spirits that flee.
The storms that grow quiet at the mere sound of his voice.
Yes, the popular opinion would say something respectable,
something pious even.
Perhaps a great moral teacher.
But as the wave rises,
it doesn't do justice to what you've seen.
Where else do you find such power and such love?
Where else do you find such blistering truth
and yet such gentle grace?
Can he even be compared to a prophet?
Does he even belong in that category anymore?
Or is he in a class by himself?
And does your heart reach out to him and say,
you are the Christ,
the king,
the one we've been waiting for?
To put it all to rights.
To fix what's broken.
To mend what is torn.
To make the evil and the sadness come untrue.
Like Peter,
we should never expect
this confession
to be a popular one.
We should never expect
such a true and clear confession
of Jesus as the Christ
to win us prestige
or position
or rank
or fame.
In fact,
it may mean the loss
of a lot of those things.
But let us follow
in Peter's footsteps nonetheless.
If the Holy Spirit
is working
in the eyes of your heart,
then call out
and confess him
as your own.
Why?
If the cost is so great,
why do so?
But friend,
what greater reward
could there be
to know
and be known
by
the king?
Isn't that its own reward?
And the things of earth
will grow strangely dim
in the light
of his glory
and grace.
It's the very thing
our hearts were created for,
to know
and be known
by him.
But as our passage continues,
we see that at this stage,
the disciples
didn't understand
everything
fully
just yet.
There are lots of opinions
about Jesus
and only one real answer.
But this answer
is deeper than you think.
This answer
is a lot
deeper
than you think.
And this brings us
to our third point
of our passage
in verse 31.
You know,
did you think
it was a little strange
that Jesus tells Peter
to tell no one?
I mean,
Peter has just
confessed
that Jesus is the Christ,
the Messiah.
Finally,
someone gets it.
Why not tell Peter
to go
and spread the news
everywhere to everyone?
Well,
because at this point,
not even the disciples
have quite the full picture.
Look at verse 31.
And Jesus began
to teach them
that the Son of Man,
he's referring to himself there,
must suffer many things
and be rejected
by the elders
and the chief priests
and the scribes
and be killed
and after three days
rise again.
And it's with this verse
that Mark's gospel
takes a turn
and we see
the great wave
of Jesus' identity
begin to crest
and see it
take its full form.
The disciples,
like most Jews
of their day,
expected a Messiah
who would reign
in power,
not suffer
in agony.
They had what we might call
a theology of glory,
a theology of victory,
a theology of triumph,
not a theology
of the cross.
But notice
that this message
of Jesus' suffering,
rejection,
death,
and rising again,
according to Jesus,
it's utterly essential
to what he,
as the Messiah,
has come to do.
Notice the word there
that he uses,
must.
The Son of Man
must suffer.
He must be rejected.
He must be killed.
He must rise again.
There's no understanding,
Jesus,
apart from this
must.
But what does he mean by it?
Why does Jesus say
that he must suffer?
Does he mean that
he'll simply be unable
to escape the jealousy
and hatred
of the chief priest
and the scribe,
that they're stronger
than him,
they're more powerful
than him,
so it's inevitable
that they'll have
their way with him?
Is that what this
must means?
Surely that can't be it.
Does Jesus mean
that he must leave them
a great example
of self-sacrifice
and self-denial?
Is this why he must die,
to merely teach them
the importance
of self-giving love?
Well, that can't be it either.
Then why is Jesus
so adamant
that he must die?
Well, the Messiah
was the one
who was supposed
to put things right,
to heal and mend
what was broken.
But the greatest problem
wasn't the Romans,
and it wasn't leprosy,
and it wasn't
a shortage of food,
and it wasn't
even unclean spirits.
All those things
mattered,
but that wasn't
the root of the problem.
In theory,
all those things
could be fixed,
but still,
the greatest problem
would remain
the one that stood
at the root
and gave birth
to all the rest.
What needed
to be put right
wasn't ultimately
their relationship
to Rome
or to one another
or to the environment
or to themselves.
What needed
to be put right
was their relationship
with God.
And to do that,
the king must
suffer,
be rejected
and killed
and rise again.
Consider why that is
from God's side.
God's side.
Again and again,
the Bible presents
God as utterly
holy and just
and at the same time
utterly gracious
and loving.
Read the Old Testament.
What do you find?
Well, again and again,
you find things
like Exodus 34,
6 and 7.
God is a God
merciful and gracious,
slow to anger
and abounding
in steadfast love
and faithfulness,
keeping steadfast love
for thousands,
forgiving iniquity
and transgression
and sin,
but who will
by no means
clear the guilty.
Well, which one is it?
Is God perfectly just?
He will by no means
clear the guilty?
Or is God perfectly
merciful and gracious,
abounding in steadfast love?
Do we have to flip a coin
and pick?
Is God erratic?
Does he choose one one day
and one the other?
No.
The answer is he's both.
Always.
At the same time.
And that creates a dilemma
that runs right through
the entire Old Testament.
How can God
be holy and just
and yet
still live with his sinful people,
still be merciful
and accepting?
Well, friends,
the answer is here
in Mark chapter 8
when Jesus says,
must.
At the cross.
At the cross,
the Messiah
will represent his people
bearing the perfectly
just penalty
for human sin.
God will judge sin
perfectly at the cross
and at the same time
extend perfect mercy
because God in Christ
is bearing the penalty
on himself
so his people
don't have to.
Utterly,
holy and just
and perfectly
merciful.
And that brings us
to the human side
of the relationship.
You see,
the problem,
what we see here
in this must of Jesus,
the problem of human sinfulness
is so great,
so intractable,
that nothing less
can take it away.
We can't possibly
be good enough
to cover over the offense
or to make up
for the cost.
No,
the Messiah
must suffer
and die
to atone
for our sins.
If there's ever
to be atonement
for sins,
if humans are ever
to be put right
with God,
then the Messiah
must die.
And yet,
here's the good news.
Jesus willingly
did so.
Seeing what had
to be done,
the great cost
that needed
to be paid,
seeing what must happen
if ever we could
be forgiven,
Jesus freely
chose to do so.
The one who had
all the glory
and the splendor
of heaven,
who was beautiful
beyond compare,
would come,
as Isaiah 53
says,
that we read earlier,
and be despised
and forgotten
and considered
of little account.
Why?
For us.
Friends,
this is the centerpiece
of the whole Bible.
Everything else
is secondary to this,
that Christ died
for sinners.
This is the truth
that you can lean
your whole weight upon
in life and in death,
in sickness and in health,
that though we deserve
nothing,
Christ willingly
suffered for us
on the cross.
And by his suffering,
he's purchased forgiveness
and eternal life
for all who believe
in him.
This is the one thing
that you can rest
everything on.
But there's one last thing
in our passage
that we see.
We saw that there are
many opinions about Jesus,
but only one real answer.
Then we saw that this answer
was even deeper
than we realized.
Our passage ends,
though,
by showing us
that we can easily
lose sight
of this central truth.
We can easily
lose sight of it.
Pick up in verse 32,
and Peter took Jesus aside
and began to rebuke him.
But turning and seeing
his disciples,
Jesus rebuked Peter
and said,
get behind me, Satan,
for you're not setting
your mind on the things
of God,
but on the things
of man.
Friends,
how often are we like Peter?
We want a theology
of glory,
not a theology
of the cross.
In other words,
we want a Christ
who promises us
health and wealth
and power
and happiness,
not a Christ
who suffers.
We want a Christ
who grants us
our own wishes
and desires,
a Christ who follows
our agenda
and our program,
not a Christ
who calls us
to take up a cross
and follow him
on the path
of self-sacrifice
and self-giving.
How often do we, too,
set our minds
on the things of man
and not
on the things
of God?
How quickly,
thinking that we're
actually honoring
God's name,
do we end up just
playing into the hand
of the evil one?
So, friends,
let us learn humility
from our passage.
Just because we as Christians
speak the name of Christ,
it doesn't mean
that we've always
fully embraced
the reality
of Christ crucified
and applied it
to our whole lives.
There are still
areas of our hearts
where we desire
human glory
and human approval.
people.
There are still
areas where we
refuse to take up
our cross
and follow him.
There are still
areas where we
fail to see
that my sins
are so great
that Christ
must die for me.
So, friends,
let us walk
in humility
knowing that
this truth
about who Jesus
really is
has to go
deeper
and deeper
into our lives,
into our thinking,
into our relationships,
into our church,
into our workplaces.
And if we learn
humility
from Peter here,
I think we can
also learn
charity.
Yes,
Jesus gives Peter
a strong
rebuke,
perhaps the strongest
he could give.
But doesn't
this passage
teach us
not to be
too quick
to write off
another believer
because of their
errors
and mistakes?
Within a few
verses,
Peter got it
wonderfully right
and then
disastrously wrong.
And he was
corrected for it.
And yet,
that wasn't
the end
of Peter's story.
He would come
to see what
every true Christian
comes to see,
that the cross
is the very
center of it all
and that we
can't really know
Jesus as our
king without
knowing him
as our crucified
and risen king.
as every
Christian can
confess,
it takes time
for this truth
to permeate
our whole
thinking
and our
whole living
so we can
be gracious
and gentle
and charitable
with one another
as we work
these things
out in our
lives.
But the truth
is,
friends,
by the Holy
Spirit,
it will do
that.
It will
begin to
permeate
everything.
and it
must do
that.
This is
what it
means to
confess
Jesus as
the Christ,
not just
as our
king,
not just
as our
Lord,
but as
our
crucified
king,
as our
risen
Lord.
Not
just a
theology of
glory,
but a
theology of
the cross.
So how
about you,
friend?
Who do you
say he is?
And have
you confessed
him as
such?
There are
lots of
opinions,
but only
one real
answer.
You are
the Christ.
Make Peter's
confession your
own today.
Let's pray
together.
Our
Father in
heaven,
like Peter,
we know
that,
God,
we so
often get
it wrong.
And so
we pause
now,
having
considered
this
passage,
in quiet
before you
and in
stillness,
and ask
for your
Holy Spirit
to come
and take
the blinders
from our
eyes and
from our
heart.
Lord,
clear away
the opinions
and help
us to
truly see
and to
know and
to confess
Jesus as
the Christ.
Christ.
And Lord,
for those
of us
who have
through
your grace
come to
take you
and confess
you as
the Christ,
forgive us,
God,
for ways in
which we
have not
followed the
way of the
cross.
But God,
thank you for
the hope of
this passage,
that you're
healing and
good and
gracious
King.
God,
come and do
a work in
us,
we pray.
Make us
the kind
of people
who confess
you with
boldness
and live
that out
in the
gentleness
and strength
and courage
that you
provide.
Pray this
in Jesus'
name.
Amen.